Rock Music and Fresh Coffee

This blog post is mostly meant as practice for me to word things properly. Any advice is welcome.

The drive to get here was all but safe. Slipping and sliding across the road as if my car was on ski’s.

I sit in the parking lot watching people gather by the front door, puffing the wind and their ciggarettes and blending smoke and cold air. My mind is empty. No nerves, just ready.

I exit my car, grabbing my lunch that’s tinted with frost from having my window open for most of the hour and 20 minute drive. I enter the building and I’m met with a firm hand shake and a question about the roads.

“Let me give you a tour,” she says as hands come towards me and names are thrown into the air and fall to the floor. The only thing I feel is comfort. In a situation where I would feel out of place, unwanted and not up to the job, I am ready.

She leads me to a training room and we exchange small talk about the art work drawn on the white board. The first person in the room is a burley man, I didn’t catch his name. He sits next to me and I attempt to start a conversation. Regardless of my comfort he meets me with my first wall. I’m still elated, I’m comfortable regardless of you.

The next 2 hours are scattered with information and my confidence wavers slightly but in a good way. I can do this. I can do this.